Jun 20, 2010

I am a bad blogger. I haven't posted in five days and my only excuse is that I've been being lazy. It's incredible how much of my time laziness occupies. It sprawls across my days. I am a bad blogger. Bad blogger. So this is my official apology.

Good, now that I've apologized and you've either forgiven me or didn't care in the first place, the healing process is over and we can move on. Good. I like moving on.

Today I am reporting on the state of my house. Just to be clear, my house is generally a clean, comfortable, relatively organized place. I'm stating this for my mom's sake. Unfortunately now is not a general time and my house is not clean, comfortable or relatively organized.

This is my front bathroom. Where my shower is supposed to be. Yeah, to the left there. The right is the toilet.

This is the view from our hall closet. Usually there are shelfs there. They're just taking a few days off.

Hey, look, you can see where the shower is supposed to be from the closet too. Very cool. I think the lack of walls and things like sinks gives it a much more open feel.

Everything that was once in this closet is now being stored under the desk in my office. All the books, Apples to Apples, pictures of plants and pottery. All under my desk. It's just great. It was just empty space before, and now it's storage. Yay.

If I were to make a list of the things in this world that I love right now, clean, complete bathrooms with the shower where it is supposed to be, orderly closets with shelfs not taking a vacation and the office without the glad tidings of my books on the floor would rank in the top ten. Well, maybe top twenty. Ice cream would be up there too. And bananas, which are yellow fruit and also, a pudding. A delicious pudding.

Sorry. It's our tenth post and I still hadn't made a Psych reference. Couldn't let that happen.

Anyway. They said there was mold in (all) our walls, and that's why their ripping it apart. Today is the front bathroom and closet. Next week it's my bath. Who knows? Next month I may not have a house. While I find there being mold there highly likely, I can't help remembering the Monk episode where he bought a house and his fix-it man ripped it apart looking for treasure.

Monk and Psych references. Check.

On a less self pitying note, it is really interesting what you you find out when you're emptying a closet.

For example.

My family has a lot of books. No, I mean a lot of books. It's getting to the point where it's just ridiculous. That whole closet was full of them, and we have two more book cases in the office and both my parents have offices. Normally this isn't the kind of thing that I would complain about, but right now a large number of them are stacked under the desk and other available surfaces, all rather difficult to access. So even though we own an absurd number of books, there are absurdly few I can actually get at. Did I say this was less self pitying?

On his mission, my dad wrote in cursive. And it was actually pretty nice handwriting, which brings up an interesting question: What happened? He wrote about protein and marriage. So that's what missionaries think about....

We also have a lot of salt and pepper shakers, which were used as chess pieces a few summers back. I don't like chess. I can't beat anybody.

We have difficulty throwing certain things away. Like petri dishes I got for science fair and ended up not using. We might need them someday! In the distant future, there will be one of our neighbors in desperate need of a petri dish and we will be able to provide it, thus saving their lives and becoming heros. Assuming that we'll be able to find them...

Remind me, the petri dishes are under the desk in the office, on top of the bubble rap stuff and next to The Mysterious Bennedict Society.

A Little Explanation

Two teen girls in search of scholarships and a food processor--we blame Mark Bittman. (But if you happen to be Mark Bittman we love you and if you happen to have grandsons, we have plans to marry them. Just so you know.) We're stuck in paradise in faculty dorms with professor parents (we think we've gotten away with minimal emotional damage) (and we like parenthesis a lot). We feel the need to chronicle our lives and desperate need for a food processor.